Wound Up for Fight: A Satiric Poem
Scary is the world in big eyes of a child
with some shadows lurking from the night
his young imagination being merciless and wild
creating a future "toy-soldier" all wound up for fight.
So he takes it with him into years to come
still wound up to charge against his many foes
in that battlefield of shadows that's somewhat dumb
with his hand glued to his mind's sword, instead of a rose.
Futile is his hope to defeat that hostile dude
because he keeps coming in so many faces
all created eagerly by his ever fighting mood
jumping out of pretty much impossible places.
Out of sheer playfulness my keen eye observes
people and their games going on around me
so I see this massive parading of nerves
not just by a soldier, but a whole army.
Despite all those frequent announcements of war
by miracle their uniforms stayed without a hole
but panic of defense goes on more and more
keeping their fighting as a permanent goal.
Thus, I ask myself --- just as I so frequently do
what would befall them if they would just unwind
why they need an enemy, I really don't have a clue
instead of allowing themselves some peace of mind.
For, old age will come to all of us here
and what will the "veteran" have to report
but wasting his most years in a fighting gear
and feeling regretful --- and maybe silly of a sort.